Nothing is Different
by Anguish of My Love
Summary: He knows Julian is attractive. He knows he's hot. But he isn't—at the least—attracted to the other brunette. Everything he feels is strictly platonic. From CP Coulter's story 'Dalton'. Derian. Rating for visual sex.


Disclaimer: I just don't want to own a masochistic diva and a hopeless playboy who both cause me an immeasureable amount of pain sometimes.

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><p>Honestly, Derek doesn't know why he does this—why <em>they<em> do this. He is still straight. He will always get turned on by breasts and skirts, and he will always be attracted to soft curves and long hair. He does not see the appeal of broad shoulders, of hard bodies, of body parts similar to his rather than different.

But, for some reason, his body doesn't stop because of this.

He doesn't know why he fucks Julian.

Or, well, he _does_, but he isn't satisfied with his reasons.

He knows Julian is attractive. He _knows_ he's hot. But he isn't—at the least—attracted to the other brunette. Everything he feels is strictly platonic. He is completely straight and he does not see himself changing anytime soon, or ever. But he cannot help but lust for Julian's body. It's a disgusting thought, it's completely wrong, but he cannot help it.

Maybe it's because Julian feels how he feels, despondent, hopelessly pining for something that would never give him the time of the day; and that had somehow, _somehow_, turned to desire. Maybe somewhere between taking care of him and spending all his time with him, the lines blurred and his body—his body that could never let anything platonic last long—wanted something _more_. Or maybe it's just pure, unadulterated lust.

They didn't do it often. Fucking, that is. They started this sometime a month ago, and he could count how many times they did the deed with his two hands. He could also count how many times anything else besides lust crept into their fun times with neither. It is extremely platonic—as platonic as sex could be.

Their first time had been as spontaneous as all the other times they decided to do it.

They could see the desire in each others' eyes. Either of them, one of them—he couldn't remember who, the lust clouding any and all of his senses—had leaned in and the other followed. The hunger had been rolling of their bodies, they needed it. They needed it and they needed it fast; any kind of foreplay hadn't taken place.

That time, Derek had been on top. He hadn't needed to prepare the popstar for long, both had been too aroused to find any sort of discomfort—not that they hadn't. Just as the captain was about to put it in, the awkwardness of it all suddenly appeared.

No matter how much they needed this, one of them was still straight and the other was still in love with someone else—the missing piece in their merry band of men. And in that one crucial moment, they were both about to pull away.

But Derek had moved, and the head of his cock had slid into Julian's hole. And then everything disappeared.

It was quick. It was hard and fast and all raw emotion. If they hadn't been in Julian's room with all the other Stuarts in their own rooms, it would have been loud, too. Derek had bit on Julian's neck to stop himself from moaning, and Julian had shoved his fist into his mouth to keep from screaming.

When they came, they had whispered each others' names. It would have been impossible to think of that one person they thrived for. Their sex had been meaningless, it had been lust lust lust lust lust. That wasn't what they wanted, not for the people they love. They didn't see another face while they were fucking and, perhaps, it was better that way. Or maybe it wasn't.

They didn't cuddle. As soon as their highs came down and as soon as the fog cleared, they were back to square one. They were nothing more than best friends. Nothing had changed. Nothing _could_ change.

It was just physical—_sensual_—and nothing else. At the end of the day, he was still Derek and the other was still Julian.

Nothing changed.

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><p>So I just wondered how Derian could happen while remaining as canon as possible and then this idea came out. It flowed right in and it has a <em>really<em> persuasive voice and I couldn't not write it down. I'm just saying.

Sorry if it's not much.

(And wow, I had the Summer all to myself-basically-and I choose not to write until it's almost ending. I think it has a reverse effect on me considering how I grew even less productive now.)


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